


Your Fault

by firesonic152



Series: Other Prompts [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dead Sam, Dean blaming people for his problems, Gen, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-17
Updated: 2014-06-17
Packaged: 2018-02-05 00:01:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1798129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firesonic152/pseuds/firesonic152
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean was contemplating the trembling golden ripples in his beer when Castiel found him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Fault

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the dialogue prompt "It's all your fault."
> 
> Never written for these two before... Did my best.

Dean was contemplating the trembling golden ripples in his beer when Castiel found him.

He did not even have to glance up to confirm that the angel had indeed appeared by his side; somewhere along the way his senses had become finely attuned to the faint swish of wind, the minute degree of warmth that signaled Castiel’s arrival. Those senses, so deadly, so prepared for  _combat_ \- and yet now he did not even look when they were sounding the alarm. For so long, his instincts had been the one thing he could trust in this literally godforsaken world.

There had been a point where he could place his faith in other living beings. There had been a time where he no longer feared stepping out into the middle of a room because Sam was behind him, because Castiel was watching.

Now he found himself with his back pressed to the wall all over again.

He wondered if the swirling waves in his glass bottle ever stopped. Even when they appeared to have stilled to the human eye, were they still oscillating all the same? He had never paid attention in school - that was Sam’s forte, not his - but he figured the particles were probably vibrating with life.

"Dean." Castiel spoke first. That was a new one. Usually Dean had to scream for him for months before he got a reply, if he got one at all.

There was another long stretch of silence. The waves were settling, collecting into a single unified pool. When Castiel opened his mouth again, they were disturbed from their rest once more, just the slightest bit.

"I’m sorry, Dean." And Castiel did sound sorry, he really did. His tone was hushed, rough with what was probably regret. Dean just could not find it in himself to care one way or the other.

Sighing, Dean finally replied, quiet, careful, as though reality would splinter with too much noise. “I know. I’m sorry too. That doesn’t change the fact that my brother’s dead, Cas.”

The floor squeaked with the voice of a flea and he knew Castiel had tensed. It was pretty impressive to get a divine soldier to react physically to anything, with the discipline they had, so Dean thought he should probably be proud of his accomplishment.

"Dean—"

"It’s all your fault, though," Dean continued as though he had not heard Castiel begin his sentence. "I know it. You know it."

After a pause, Castiel admitted softly, “Yes.”

"Then why’re you even here, Cas?" Dean asked, finally turning to look at the threat his instincts had been crying out for him to see but there was nothing. He almost laughed; he had forgotten that angels, above all else, were cowards.

The waves had grown turbulent. When did his hand start shaking? A distant repulsion moved him and the waves’ dance was interrupted with a sharp crash of glass.

He did not hear it shatter. His senses had been numbed.


End file.
